Infected
by SilverSnikle
Summary: My take on Clark Luthor's descent into darkness. Set on his 17th birthday. Clark Luthor, Chloe Sullivan, Lutessa Luthor
1. Chapter 1

Clark wakes with a start. His eyes are wide, his muscles taut, his breathing frantic. He shudders involuntarily and forces a deep breath. His head turns slowly toward the door of his room. As expected, Lionel is standing in the frame of the door. The smile on his face sends a surge of anger through Clark, but he holds back any noticeable reaction. His Father, as Lionel prefers to be referred to, has one hand on the door knob, and the other hidden behind his back.

''Still in bed son? Us Luthor men have to rise before the rest. He steps into the room and Clark hears a snapping sound. The source of his forced awakening vanishes from his senses. He feels his body relax, only a little, and his breathing slowly returns to normal.

"I hate to use such extreme measures with you, Son, but I fear you won't grasp the lesson completely otherwise.''

Clark moves, ready to get out of his bed, out of this room, out of this house if possible. But Lionel has other ideas. He sits on the edge of Clark's bed, keeping him there. He pulls around the hand that had been hidden, revealing a small lead box. Clark can't stop the look of abhorrence from forming over his features. He hates Lionel – hates that Lionel had been the one to find him as a child in that corn field.

Clark has spent many nights dreaming about what his life may have been like had someone else, anyone else found him out there.

He knew though, Lionel finding him had not been an accident. Lionel had spent years preparing for him, the Traveler. Clark knew his end game was basically to use Clark to take over the world. It wasn't the end game that worried Clark. It was the journey; the thoughts of what he may have to endure in the process of Lionel's world domination.

''It's your birthday, Son." Lionel broke into a smile; Clark hated how genuine it looked on his lips. Lionel Luthor should not be allowed to smile.

Clark nodded, unable to speak for fear he may say something demanding punishment. He knows it isn't his actual birthday.

That seems to be the one thing Lionel doesn't know about Clark's heritage. He does however know within a few months how old Clark is, thanks to his scientists' experiments. This year, Clark is somewhere around seventeen. He chokes back the vile that gathers in the back of his throat at the realization he's been under the thumb of Lionel for fifteen whole years.

"I have a present for your" Clark forces a smile, fake as it might be, but Lionel doesn't seem to care. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a jewelry box. Clark wants to smack it across the room, it's lead.

He shifts his weight, moving to the other side of his bed, swinging his legs over the side. He stands, stretches, and turns back toward Lionel.

"I like surprises. I would rather receive my present at my party. There is going to be a party, right?" He raises an eyebrow in question, settling the stone look of indifference that regularly graces his face over his features. Lionel stands on the other side of the bed and Clark can see the proud look in his eyes. He loves when Clark stands up for himself, loves when Clark puts on his mask of pride.

It's lose, lose with Lionel, ''Get dressed. We'll have breakfast as a family." He turns, slipping the jewelry box back into the same pocket, and strides out the door.

Clark takes two seconds before super-speeding to the door and slamming it shut. He knows his anger only feeds Lionel, but sometimes he can't help it.

Dressed in black slacks, a lavender button-up, and a pinstriped vest, Clark walks into the dining room. He's not the last to arrive for the meal. Lex is already seated, eager to please Lionel. Lutessa, however, is late. She tends to be the straggler and Lionel doesn't hide his disappointment in his daughter. He is upfront and brutally honest about his feelings for the middle child. He tells her and both his sons how weak she is. He likes to use her as an example of the type of people they are to overcome in life; Clark thinks that's the only reason Lionel keeps her around, as a bad example.

Clark sits opposite Lex and stars into his brother's eyes. Lex's eyes are deep wells, full of hate and envy. Clark finds this ironic, considering the source of Lex's hate is the same source as Clark's. They both hate that Lionel gives so much of his attention to Clark; Lex hates that Clark doesn't soak up Lionel's affections. Lex would do anything to have his father look at him with the loving eyes he saves only for Clark. That makes Clark sick. Like father like son.

Lutessa finally enter the dining hall and seats herself carefully as far away from Lionel as one could get. Clark worries about her.

She has the eyes of a troubled soul, empty. She keeps her head tilted forward, her auburn locks spread over her face, hiding her from the room.

''It's so wonderful to have the whole Family around the table, "Lionel's voice is genuine happiness laced with pride. Clark wants to choke the happiness out of him.

Lex's lips are pressed together tightly and Clark knows he's holding back a sardonic comment. Clark almost laughs, knowing he too has thoughts best kept within the confines of his own brain. No need to share with the class, it wouldn't be appreciated.

The rest of the day Clark spends avoiding Lex and Lionel. He and Lutessa take off to an abandoned farm somewhere in Smallville. They find a couple forgotten horses and go for a ride. Clark doesn't spend a lot of time with his sister. He goes to Excelsior during the school months, and she goes to a similar all-girl school somewhere in Star City. It's only during the summer breaks, like this one, that they spend any amount of time together. Even during the summer those moments are few and far between. Lionel keeps Clark busy most days, learning business, politics, and war. But any chance he gets he takes Lutessa away from the mansion.

She is no more his sister than Lionel is his father, or Lex is his brother, but Clark feels drawn to her. She is different from them somehow, and it's not because she's weak. No, Clark thinks she's actually the strongest of them all. She's the only one with true Luthor blood who fights an internal battle with good and evil. Lex had fought when they were younger, but after years of being only second best to his father, Lex had embraced his true self. Clark remembered after they'd first found him, Lex had been hurt in the fields. Other children looked at him differently because all his hair had fallen out. Clark, however, had not been fazed by Lex's bald seven-year-old head. They had played together, laughed together, even enjoyed each other's company

As the sun began to set behind the hills, Clark sighed. He knew he and Lutessa needed to head back to the mansion soon. His party would be starting, and to disappoint Lionel by being late was to ask for punishment. He cringed at the memory of that morning. He didn't understand why Lionel hid the green rock from his sight. Clark knew it was there. Those green rocks were the only things that could cause him any pain. He would do mostly anything to avoid them. Mostly.

''We should be heading back Tess." He didn't know why, but he had never like the way Lutessa felt on his lips. He had started calling her Tess anytime they were alone after the age of ten. He much preferred the shortened endearment, as did she.

She doesn't reply to his words, only smiles sadly at him and turns her horse around.


	2. Chapter 2

When Clark walks in to his room, the first thing he notices is the garment bag hanging from his floor length mirror. Of course, Lionel has to have control over every aspect of the party, including the birthday boy's wardrobe. Clark sighs and moves to unzip the bag.

Inside he finds a charcoal gray three piece suit, specially tailored for him. Behind the suit is a blood red dress shirt. At least Lionel was letting him wear one of his favorite colors tonight. Clark has always preferred primary colors, but he was rarely allowed to wear them. He let himself smile at the suit. Maybe this year's party would actually be something to enjoy. So far, any birthday party for himself or his siblings had always been a profound engagement, but heartless. Clark would be happy with some close friends and his family sitting around a table with a simple sheet cake. All he really wanted was to feel love from someone other than the devil himself.

Instead, he got expensive gifts and lavish parties full of people he'd never met and didn't care to. He drank wine, though alcohol didn't affect his Kryptonian body, and smiled and shook hands. But he never really had any fun. He wasn't even sure what real fun consisted of, if he were to be honest with himself. The most fun he ever had was debating history. Something told him normal seventeen year-olds didn't do that.

He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and shaking the excess water from his hair. Clark used a hand towel to wipe the moisture off the mirror before placing a hand on either side of the sink. He stars at his reflection, and leans forward. He knows he has nicely structured features. His full lips are always perfectly pouty and a delicious red. His cheek bones are razor sharp, set high, hollowing out his cheeks beautifully. His skin is like marble, smooth and graceful. His eyes are a see-through jade; his hair, dark as night, falls in soft waves around his face.

Yet, he has no love interest. What seventeen year-old who could be a model for any of the top agencies doesn't have a girlfriend? He laughs mockingly at his own reflection before turning to leave the bathroom. He had seen a beautiful brunette around Smallville a few times. He didn't know her name, but it didn't matter. He could never get near her. She wore a necklace made from piece of green meteorites. Anytime he got closer than five feet to her he felt the pain of it.

Lionel had seen him staring at her once, and informed him her parents had been killed by a meteor the day Clark had landed on Earth. Essentially, he had murdered her parents. Obviously, there was no chance for them. That knowledge didn't stop him from staring at her openly anytime he saw her. Granted, he'd only seen her a handful of times. She worked at a coffee shop on Main Street, so he'd gone there and say in the corner watching her. Lionel had found out and he'd been punished. Evidently, women were not a luxury he was not afforded.

Dressed, Clark sits on the end of his bed. He has a few minutes before he is supposed to meet every one at the helipad. Evidently, Lionel was flying them all to Metropolis for the night. He takes a deep breath and studies his reflection again, this time in the full length mirror. His mind wonders, imagining a world on the other side of his mirror where everything was the opposite of his own world. Maybe, on the other side of the mirror Clark had loving parents and siblings. Maybe, the mirrored Clark even had real friends, not ones that buddied up to him at school out of fear of his family name. He smiles at the mirrored image of himself. Of course, the other Clark would have a girlfriend. In fact, he was probably dating a pretty brunette who works at the Talon.

Standing, he runs a hand down his front, smoothing out his vest. He likes his vests. They are one of the few things about his life he does enjoy. His vests, and Tess. Clark smiles, remembering that he and Tess have plans to seek away from his party at some point to stare at the stars. Clark knows the planet he'd been born on was destroyed moments after his parents had sent him on his journey to Earth. He still likes to stare up at the night sky and imagine what life may have been like on said planet. Tess was the only one who seemed to understand his personal fascination with the night sky.

In Metropolis, Clark walks ahead of his family in to The Avalon. It's the newest club in the city; Lionel had rented out the entire premise for Clark's party. Inside, he scans the club. There are many pretty faces present, but few he recognizes. He looks over his shoulder at Lionel and makes a show of smiling, as wide as his lips will allow, in approval. If Lionel knows it's forced, he doesn't show it.

The DJ announces that the party boy has arrived and loud cheers follow. Clark's immediate reaction is to grimace, they cheer for their own vanity, not for him.

The family is escorted toward the balcony. Along the way Clark takes in the decor, all red and black. He notices all the guests are wearing black and white; he's the only person wearing color. Even with his suit jacket and vest covering the majority of his red shirt, Clark knows he stands apart. That had been Lionel's intention, of course. Servers are carrying platters full of either drinks or hors d'oeuvres. Some of the crowd is already dancing, but most guests are clustered in groups around the dance floor at bar-top tables.

There's some excitement at the entrance and Clark's attention is drawn to it. Even from across the dance floor, with the loud music pulsating through the expanse, he is able to focus his hearing on the door. From what he hears it sounds as if an intern at the Daily Planet is trying to get party details for a story. Hearing her say her name is Chloe Sullivan, Clark smiles. Chloe. It sounds like such a nice name. He stores the name away, thinking his mirrored self could use a Chloe in his life.

They step out the glass doors into the warm, crisp night air. The lights strung around the balcony are all glowing red. Clark has a feeling the red decor will make much more sense as the night wears on. Lionel didn't choose the color of blood simply because it was one of Clark's favorites.

"Well, Son. I know the night is young yet, but what do you say to opening a few presents now?" Lionel's grin reminds Clark of a hungry lion. Fitting, Lionel the Lion. He laughs at his own joke, knowing no one else has any insight into his giggles.

"Well, sure, Father." Clark attempts to grin like a lion back at him. He knows he's failing, but grins wider at his little joke.

"Great! Let's start with Lutessa's." Lionel waves a hand and a suit brings Clark his first present. Clark grins at his sister. Lionel is saving what he perceives as 'the best' for last, but Clark is most excited about Tess's gift.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark unwraps the red and black package, noting that the color scheme matches the entire party, as well as himself. For a moment he wonders if Tess actually picked out the present, or if Lionel governed over it, signing her name to it. He glances at her, studying her eyes, and knows from her nervous smile the gift inside is of her own choosing. He thinks the grin on his face must resemble the Cheshire Cat. Clark the Cat. He laughs again.

He opens the box and stops. He can't help but stare, mesmerized by the small cylindrical item inside. He wants to place the lid back over it and keep it from his father's disapproving eyes. Part of him envies Tess's ability to outright oppose their father. Lionel doesn't like Clark investigating his origins. He prefers to be the person with all the knowledge, giving Clark snippets here and there as he sees fit. Lionel knows, knowledge is power.

Lionel notices the hesitation, "Come on, Son, show us what you've gotten." Lionel's eyes twinkle and Clark thinks he'd like to burn holes through them. Just knowing he could eases Clark's anger, slightly.

He lifts the small wooden telescope out of the safety of its box and holds it up for the table to see.

"Oh, how beautiful." Lex's smile is sincere, and Clark knows why.

"Yes, beautiful indeed." Lionel's eyes have lost their spark, which only makes Clark smile brighter as he slips the gift inside his breast pocket.

"Oh, please open mine next." Lex nods at the suit, who produces a slightly larger present to Clark.

Curiosity courses through Clark's veins every year when he is handed Lex's present. He keeps waiting for a kryptonite bomb to go off. He's disappointed again when a book is revealed under the wrapping. Clark studies it momentarily. Hamlet. Clark laughs and nods to Lex as if to say "Well played." They may not be very friendly, but they uphold a certain aspect of respect for each other. That said, it's bit of an ongoing joke between them to gift each other books about brothers killing each other.

"And of course, we have reached the pivotal moment!" Lionel actually clasps his hands together in anticipation. Clark fights the urge to roll his eyes, as juvenile an act as it would be. Lionel's gifts never really live up to their hype. Clark fully expects this year to be no exception.

He places an inquisitive look on his face and waits. Lionel pulls the gift from his pocket. Clark is amazed, that in itself is much different from Lionel's usual theatrics. He's also a little surprised to see it's the same lead jewelry box from that morning. He had been expecting a "public" gift at the party, and the "private" gift later. Seems this year they would be one and the same. Clark raises an eyebrow as he takes the small box from Lionel's hand.

Clark looks at his siblings and draws in a breath. On a few of his birthdays, Lionel has introduced him to different forms of Kryptonite. That's the technical name they had given the meteors which had followed his ship to Earth, actual pieces of his home planet Krypton.

On his tenth birthday, he'd gotten a lead box Lionel told him had been "forged from the armor of St. George, a dragon slayer, who put into the box his strength, faith, fears, and doubts." When Clark had, naturally, opened the box he had been hit with a wave of pain, the likes of which he'd never known. The small green rock inside had glowed brightly, and the pain had not subsided until Clark had shut the lid on the box again.

Two years later, Clark had received a gorgeous watch. It had been the first birthday present which had actually appealed to his sense of style. The face had been a brilliant blue color and Clark had been excited to wear it. Later that night he'd ended up in an altercation with Lex. When Lex's fist connected with his jaw, inflicting a throbbing pain, he panicked. He had run to Lionel, confused and scared. Lionel gave him a speech on blue Kryptonite. It evidently takes his powers away temporarily while he's exposed to it, essentially making him human. Clark still had the watch, stored safely inside the St. George box.

"Well, go ahead, Clark." Lionel made a 'get on with it' gesture.

Clark opens the box, his brow creasing at the piece of jewelry it holds. He pulls it closer to his eyes and examines the ring. He should have known Lionel's gift would play into the "red" theme. It's a gold band holding a sizable asscher cut Ruby. Upon closer examination, Clark can see the Luther "L" ingrained into the middle of the stone. He smiles despite himself. Red is one of his favorite colors, after all.

Forgetting all the reasons to be wary, Clark moves to pull the ring from its snug box. He knows it's in a lead box (a warning sign), yet he cannot stop himself from the urge put it on. A hand covers over the ring before he can touch it.

Clark looks up into Lionel's eyes, confused. Why give him the ring if he wouldn't let him wear it? Clark knows he is being careless. So far, every form of Kryptonite he's been exposed to has had a negative effect on him. Maybe he just wants to get it over with. From experience, it only affects him when near him or, like the blue, when in close contact with his skin. Since he is holding the ring's box, red must be the same as the blue. He would have to wear the ring for it to affect him, same as he has to wear the blue watch to lose his powers.

Clark thinks about ignoring Lionel's hand and putting on the ring regardless of what his father wants. Then he thinks about the other small lead box kept in a different pocket of Lionel's coat, one that holds a green rock. Clark snaps the lid shut on the jewelry box, smiling to himself as Lionel yanks his hand out of the way. He loves surprising the older man.

"Alright, well... Let's mingle!" Lionel spreads a hand into an open gesture, moving his family back inside to the party.

Clark leads them again, through the open glass doors, into the open space of the club. He is greeted by hand after hand to shake. He smiles brightly, as he's been trained, and nods appropriately, thanking them all for attending his party. He knows the rest of his family is doing the same. They put on their public masks, smiling, patting each other on the shoulder, smiling proudly at each other. The Luthors are great actors, upholding the illusion of a tight family bond. Clark hates the charades. He and Lex have found ways to take jabs at each other, all while appearing to be good-natured, "normal" brothers.

Clark's attention is pulled away from the young woman he's talking to, the daughter of some rich politician, when he hears a voice in the crowd. It takes him a few seconds to realize it's the same voice he heard arguing with security at the doors. Either she talked her way past them, or she found a way to sneak in. He let the corner of his lips lift upward.

"Would you excuse me? So sorry, I just have to..." There is no need to finish the sentence, both parties understand he is just politely ending the conversation to move on.

As he glides through the crowd, smiling at unfamiliar faces, he swipes two glasses of champagne off a server's platter. He shakes his head, making his long locks fall loosely around his face. He knows the messy look is much more attractive than the perfectly combed one.

"Couldn't help but overhear the scuffle earlier..." He smiles as she lifts her head, recognition accumulating in her eyes. He sees a flash of worry, but it's quickly replaced with determination. He raises an eyebrow. "Chloe, is it?" He holds out one of the glasses to her.

She stares at it quizzically. Her hesitation humors him, but it hurts too. She thinks he's baiting her, and maybe he is. He honestly isn't sure what he's doing, why he's drawn to her. But his curiosity is getting the best of him.

"Go ahead, it isn't poisoned. A death would certainly ruin the party, and drugging you would only result in a negative story on the front page of tomorrow's paper..." He pushes the glass a little closer to her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe takes the glass tentatively from Clark's proffered hand. He tilts his head and studies her, head to toe. She is wearing a simple black dress, the top of which wraps from one side of her chest, around her neck, and connects to the back. It leaves much of her shoulders exposed; Clark decides he likes the dress.

"I would introduce myself, but I'm sure that isn't necessary." He winks at her and notes that she hasn't taken a drink yet. She looks to be close to his age. "I'm only seventeen, right? No one here cares how old you are." To solidify his point, Clark sips his own drink.

"Why are you talking to me?" Clark is almost taken back by the snarkiness of her tone, but he doesn't show it. He smiles wider.

"To be honest? Not a clue." He raises his glass in salute before taking another, longer drink. This time she follows suit and takes a drink of her own.

"I'm just here to cover the party." She raises her chin a little higher, making Clark laugh.

"You have some questions for me then?" Her eyes widen slightly before she catches herself and he chokes back another laugh.

"Not exactly. I assumed you'd be unreachable." She could give him a run for his money (well Lionel's money) with her mask. Clark is impressed by the stoic look that has settled into her eyes.

He doesn't want to have a serious conversation though; he can do that with any of the other guests. He wants to have a normal teenage conversation. He suddenly realizes his motives for searching her out. She doesn't fit into his normal world.

"Well... You know what they say about those who assume." He winks at her. Her mask faults slightly, and Clark sees her lips twitch, trying to hold back a smile.

He tips his glass back and finishes off the liquid inside it. As a server passes, he places the glass on the tray. "So, what information have you gathered thus far for your article?" She certainly wasn't making this 'normal conversation' thing easy for him.

"Not much. Just that you received a telescope and a book as gifts, along with a family ring." Clark notices her glance at his hands. "I see you aren't wearing a ring, so maybe that was inaccurate?" She raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

"No, it is accurate. I'm just not wearing it." He is impressed that she gathered all that in the short time since he had received his presents. "What else?"

She studies him for a moment, taking in his red shirt. "There's a definite color theme going on. You are the only person here not wearing black and white. You match the decorations." There's a challenge in her words, and Clark hears it loud and clear. Yes, his father used him as a decoration. He feels his eyes narrowing at her, his hands tightening into balls. "The DJ has been playing since before you arrived, yet you haven't danced for one second." Clark sees a sparkle in her eyes and his fists loosen.

"That's right. You want to know a secret?"

"Off the record?"

"Off the record. Of course."

"Sure." She says it lackadaisically, but he's not fooled.

"I've been waiting for someone worthy to dance with me." He lets his head drop forward slightly, his eyes darting toward her lips.

"Is that so? I took you as the independent type, didn't think you'd need a girl to show off." She lifts her glass to her lips and finishes off her drink while he stares openly. As the last bit drains into her mouth he lets his gaze fall to her throat, and watches as she swallows it down. Suddenly, she shoves the glass in his face. "Thanks for the drink, I really need to get back to work."

Clark is not ready for this little, whatever it is, to be over. He looks around quickly and spots a server a few feet away. He takes long strides over and deposits the glass on the tray before turning to head back to Chloe. Only, she isn't there.

He can't keep the frown off his lips. He takes a deep breath and looks around at the party laid out before him. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Everyone, except him.

"There you are! I've been looking for you. Father disappeared with a group of politicians. We can sneak out now." Tess slips her hand in to his and turns, leading him through the party.

They get in an elevator and Tess presses the button for the top floor. "We'll go up to the roof." She's smiling, genuinely smiling, and Clark can't help but smile too. Seeing her happy fills his heart with love and joy, things he doesn't have the luxury of experiencing on a regular basis.

On the roof, Tess lets go of his hand and spins around like a small child, her arms stretched out wide. He follows her, unable to let more than a few feet of space separate them.

"Isn't it just gorgeous up here?" She stops and stares out at the city, her eyes wide with wonder.

Clark pulls his eyes away from her and follows her line of sight. The city is lit up, and he realizes she's right. It is an absolutely gorgeous sight.

"We aren't up here to look at the city's lights though." He slips off his suit jacket and lays it, inside down, on the roof. Before he sits down, he pulls the telescope out. "Come here."

He reaches a hand up to her. She takes it and is pulled into his lap, into his arms. They laugh as he almost falls backwards. She has her back against his chest, his arms around her, as he looks through the telescope. He makes some adjustments and then hands it to her, pointing at a specific spot.

"See that big empty spot? Right past Orion's head? That is where Krypton should be." He's speaking softly into her hair, his head resting against hers. She smells of ginger and lilies. He inhales her scent and tightens his arms around her.

He feels Tess tense in his arms and frowns. Both of them are highly aware they have no actual relation to one another. They avoid thinking about it though, and make a conscious effort to call each other "brother" and "sis". Lionel had once found them cuddled together in Clark's bed after she had come to him during a storm. Clark was eight at the time; he was simply trying to make Tess feel safe. Lionel had gone off, beating them both, yelling throughout the entire beating that they were family. The only problem was, Clark was pretty sure Lionel didn't know the meaning of the word- Family.

"He won't find us up here." Clark lays a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Do you think the stone in your ring is another form of Kryptonite?" Tess's voice is so low Clark has to focus to hear her. His heart sinks thinking about the ring.

"Why don't I put it on now, up here. We can test it so I'll know what to expect later." If there were someone on this planet Clark was going to trust, it would be Tess. She wouldn't purposefully hurt him, or take advantage of him. She would likely even protect him from himself.

"I'm not sure..." She shifts in his lap to look at him. "What if..."

"Would you rather I wait and see what plans Father has for me?" He has already made up his mind. Clark pulls the side of his jacket up and reaches into the pocket, his fingers curling around the small box.

The two of them are silent as he opens the box. The red stone inside is so bright, as if it's glowing from within. Clark stares at it for a few minutes, he is a little afraid. Suddenly he drops his head back and laughs.

"Clark?" He can tell by the urgency of her voice that she half wonders if the stone is already affecting him.

"What if- What if it's a ruby? What if he's just playing with me?" Clark giggles a little more.

"He does like to play games." Tess shrugs.

"There's only one way to find out." Clark pulls the ring from the box and slides it on to his pinky. 


	5. Chapter 5

Clark's tongue snakes out between his teeth, his mouth spreading into a wide grin, and licks his lips. His eyes burn, but it's a good burn, and he momentarily opens them wider before they narrow. He feels free. All the frustration, anger, and despair he has held inside for years is gone. Clark glances at the ring on his pinky in awe. He thinks maybe Lionel didn't know how this was going to affect him. Then he thinks, he really doesn't care. He laughs, and it's a genuine laugh that erupts from the deepest part of his stomach.

Tess moves to stand up and Clark suddenly remembers she's there, in his lap. He holds her in place. Her hair is pulled to one side over her otherwise bare shoulder. He takes in her dress for the first time; it's strapless and silky. He lifts a hand and lets his fingers run through her amber locks trailing down her shoulder, over her bare chest and still further. The material feels smooth under his fingertips.

"Clark?" Her voice, quiet, pulls him back to the present. He raises his eyes up to meet hers.

There is a fire behind her green eyes. Clark gets lost in the flames, but only for a moment. She says his name again and his gaze drops to her lips, full and pouty. He tilts his head to the side, confused. Tess has the most perfect set of lips he's ever seen, and he is just now realizing it. How is that possible? He has no control as his head lowers toward her, his lips brushing against hers. They are just as soft and welcoming as they appear.

"Clark?" Her breath is warm on his lips, like a hug on a summer day.

"Shhh." He doesn't want to talk; doesn't want anything but her lips against his.

She doesn't fight him, lets him kiss her, even allowing him to deepen the kiss. Something clicks in his head and he understands. Tess has been in love with him for a long time. He chuckles against her mouth. He can do anything he wants with her; she will not deny him anything. The thoughts that flood his mind should shock him, but they don't. Suddenly he's uncomfortable and shifts his hips, causing Tess to settle between his thighs. The new position feels better, but it still isn't quite right.

Clark pulls away from her, staring through her green irises, deep into her soul. There is no need to rush anything; she will always feel this way. He will always have power over her, be able to take what he wants from her. He wonders momentarily what he wants. An earlier conversation with a cute blonde comes to mind.

"Let's go dance." Clark stands, pulling Tess up with him, and grabs his suit jacket. After wiping it off, he slips his jacket on and grabs Tess by her upper arm. She's barely able to keep up with him as he strides toward the roof access door; his hold is the only thing keeping her upright.

She says nothing as they load into the elevator, or as he pushes her against the back of it to kiss her again, or as he drags her out of it and toward the dance floor. She doesn't fight him as he whips her around, pulling her closer than a brother should, on the dance floor. She obediently slips her arms around his neck when he grabs her waist. She doesn't have to tell her hips to move with his as he sways to the beat.

Clark is smiling brightly, truly enjoying himself for the first time since, ever. His eyes scan the crowd and he catches a glimpse of blonde hair. She's standing against a pillar, her brow scrunched in confusion. He winks at her, and she glances over her shoulder, thinking it's meant for somebody else. The song ends and he spins Tess, dipping her gently before spinning her out for a bow. The crowd applauds and they both smile as cameras flash. He looks at Tess and is pleased to see her smiling, looking as truly happy as he feels.

A large hand lands on his shoulder and Clark turns to see Lionel. He smiles at his father and tips his head. He lets go of Tess's hand and heads off the dance floor, hunting for a drink. He isn't thirsty, just looking for an escape. He has no desire to feel the wrath of Lionel. He's in too good of a mood to let it be ruined by a little green rock, or the man in possession of it.

"Care to comment on that little stunt?" Clark turns quickly, and knows by the look on her face that she is surprised by his incomprehensibly quick spin. He raises an eyebrow.

"No stunt. Sis and I just have good chemistry." He's pretty sure she isn't referring to the dance, but gets a kick out of his hidden double meaning. Her blonde hair sways as she shakes her head disagreeably.

"We both know that wasn't what I was asking about." Dang, this girl has balls; he likes it.

"I can't flirt with the sexiest girl at my own birthday party just because she doesn't have an official invite?" He takes a step closer to her and mentally high-fives himself as her cheeks start to softly glow. "Speaking of which, did you bring me a present?"

Chloe seems to be calculating her response options. He knows she obviously didn't, so he's making a mental list of ways she can make it up to him. "Well, I'm here aren't I?"

Clark laughs, nods, and grabs her hand. He's dragging her on to the dance floor smiling like a hyena. He looks back at the girl he's dragging behind him. Her eyes widened in disbelief; he's pretty sure that other emotion is fear. He doesn't stop until they are dead center. To his amusement the music has changed to fast-paced techno. This is much more his speed tonight.

He wraps his arms around her waist, grinding up against her. Their height difference is a little bit of a challenge, but he bends his knees, one sliding between her thighs and that fixes everything. Moving one large hand to the middle of her lower back, he guides her hips into a steady rhythm to match his own. Her eyes are wide with shock. He lets his free hand hang loose at his side while he moves against her.

He is only partially aware of the flashes from a few cameras. Her head turns toward the source of the bright lights and he remembers she is there to write the story, not be a part of it. She is definitely getting more than she bargained for.

Clark doesn't like sharing her attention and decides to do something about it. He lets his head fall, his face pressing up against her exposed neck. He hears her sharp intake of breath and smiles against her skin. He lets his hand on her back drop lower and pulls her tighter against his mid section. He knows she's enjoying herself when he focuses his hearing on her heartbeat's accelerated pace. He doesn't have much, rather any, experience with girls, but he isn't worried about that.

The music pulses to a stop and the DJ makes an announcement that the cake is being unveiled. Clark doesn't want to let go of Chloe, but knows he's the star of the night. He pulls himself up to his full height and steps away from her, noting her half lidded eyes and parted lips. She'll be waiting for him when he's finished blowing out his candles and smiling for the cameras. He wonders absently what photo she will chooses to run with her article. He's guessing it won't be one of the two of them dancing together.

His family is waiting for him by the cake, which is still hidden by a drape. Once he has taken his place next to his father, the strings are pulled up, taking the cloth with them and revealing his cake.

The dessert is in the shape of his initials, a standing "C" and "L". He figures it must be about 4 feet tall, with icing to match the rest of his party and sparklers in place of the typical candles. He is temporarily disappointed that there are no candles for him to blow out. Before he can be too upset, however, the room erupts into a disorderly rendering of the basic "Happy Birthday" song. While they are singing, a server approaches him carrying a small platter with a small, personal sized cake in the shape of the number seventeen and seventeen candles.

He thinks how much fun it would be to use his full strength breath to blow out the candles, spraying cake and icing all over the server. Then he thinks better of it, guessing this smaller cake would probably be his favorite flavor, and what a waste it would be to cover the undeserving server with strawberry cake and icing. He can only lick his lips in anticipation as the chorus ends their song and the server stops in front of him expectantly. He stands still, taps his chin, rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, and then leans forward. Carefully he exhales, making sure to push out his lips appropriately, extinguishing the flames.

"I'd just love to know what it is you wished for, but that would spoil it!" Lionel pats him on the shoulder in a show of good nature.

A few servers set to work removing the sparklers and carving up his giant initials for the crowd to devour. The server holding his personal cake has already removed the candles and is cutting it into small pieces. He waits until she has moved a few of the small sections onto cake plates, and then he reaches over and takes the remainder. She does a decent job of hiding her shock and frustration at his bold move, and he turns to face his family.

"Thank you so much! This night has been an absolute dream." He catches Lionel eying his hand and smiles at the Devil's look of curiosity. "And thank you, Father, for the most glorious gift you've ever given me." Clark was amazed to be able to say something so positive to Lionel and mean it sincerely.

"If you'll excuse me, I am going to go enjoy my cake." He smiles brightly at Tess, who he notices flinches a little when he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. He wonders if maybe she doesn't like that he's so free. Then he remembers how submissive she had been earlier and dismisses the thought. She was probably more afraid he'd resort back into his shell if he took off his shiny new ring. He wishes he could assure her he has no such plans- to remove the ring. He enjoys feeling free, feeling as if no one can make him do anything he doesn't ultimately want.

He slides past her and heads for the balcony to enjoy his cake, his strawberry cake, in peace. On the way he sees Chloe, tapping away at her cellphone and grabs her with his free hand by the arm, leading her out onto the balcony with him.

"You really need not be so rough with me." She sort of huffs the words out when he stops, letting go of her arm, once they are outside.

Her word choice seems odd to him, but he dismisses the thought, he has more urgent matters on his mind. He takes a bite of his cake, never taking his eyes off her. She shifts uneasily under his intense gaze, and he takes another bite. The cake is creamy, rich, and speckled with pieces of fresh berries. He licks the fork, and thinks about feeding her a bite. He thinks about a little bit of icing being left on her lip, and he envisions her tongue sneaking out to lick it away.

His thoughts must be somewhat readable in his features because she's looking decidedly like a cornered cat. The idea of feeding her is all he can process, so he gathers a bit of cake, albeit mostly icing, onto the fork and steps closer to her. As the fork reaches her lips he thinks she's not going to open her mouth, to allow him access, but she does. He's gentle, only moving the fork's tip barely past her lips before stopping, allowing her to close the gap and her lips over the utensil. His heart is hammering away in his chest and he pulls the fork away from her lips, spellbound by the way her lips pout as the fork slides free of them.

He sets the fork and plate on the railing and reaches a hand into her golden curls, his eyes drifting shut. Behind his lids he sees only her lips wrapped around the fork. He moves in, leaving a small space between them, and feels her breath, shallow against his lips.

"There you are, Cuz!" Clark jerks his head toward the voice, his eyes ripping open, and glares.

Walking out onto the balcony is a brunette, with a decent athletic build, staring at the girl in his arms. She puts her hands on her hips and stalks right up to them.

"We've got everything we need, and our deadline is in two hours! If we don't get back to the Planet soon, we won't be seeing our names on any bylines tomorrow!" She reaches a hand out to grab Chloe's hand, and Clark grabs her by the wrist.

"Who the hell are you? And where the hell did you lose your manners?" He was very much enjoying himself less than ten seconds ago, and he'd be damned if this woman, maniac, was going to ruin his fun.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet. And that," she jabs a finger in the direction of Chloe, "is my little cousin. So, unless you want to know the privilege of feeling my boot up your ass, I suggest you let her go so that we can get back to work."

Clark is so amazed by her audacity he doesn't fight when Chloe pulls herself from his arms and walks toward this Lois. He just stands there staring at the slightly taller woman who has no problem treating him like some predator. Before he put on his ring, he would have respected her, maybe even embraced her ability to see past his name. Now, he wants to throw her over the railing and resume his previous activity.

The thoughts of his previous activity flood his mind and his blood begins to flood one particular part of his body. He's imaging how warm and soft Chloe's lips would be, and then his mind clears. It's too late though, the brash brunette is dragging his blonde through the crowd. Damn the crowd. If they weren't there he could reach Chloe faster than she could blink. If he were to speed here, there is no doubt someone would notice him either seemingly dissolve into nothingness or appearing out of nowhere.

He watches as they weave through the bodies of the crowd, and as they reach the door. They don't even hesitate, pushing the doors open and hurrying through them. 


	6. Chapter 6

Clark stands on the balcony alone for all of sixty seconds before deciding he doesn't want to spend his birthday alone. He walks back in to the party, walking straight through the middle of the dance floor. With his hands in his pockets, relaxed, he openly checks out girl after girl dancing to the fast-paced music. He almost makes one or two of them very happy by joining them, but changes his mind at the last second, leaving them alone.

As he emerges from the sea of bodies on the other side of the dance floor he catches a glimpse of Lionel holding Tess's arm, just a little too tight. He bares his teeth and heads straight for them. He could care less what Lionel might do; he couldn't stand to watch Tess be treated this way. No one should squeeze her arm that tight, except maybe him.

Lionel sees him coming, but Clark doesn't care. All he can think about is getting Tess away from him, out of his grip. He's stood by too many years and watched her be treated like the stereotypical redheaded bastard. He's done watching from the sidelines.

"Son. Are you enjoying yourself? I saw you-" Clark doesn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. He grabs Tess's hand and pulls her to him. He knows daddy doesn't like them being physical in public; he's afraid outsiders will recognize what Clark had allowed himself to be blind to all these years. The blatant abuse. That was how their father taught them, by force.

"We're leaving." He turns before letting himself smile. Lionel's face was priceless, pure shock. He knows they have to walk fast, before Lionel can reach into his pocket and pull out that stupid lead box. He has a strong feeling the green rock would still have power over him, despite his new red ring. He doesn't want to find out if he is right.

They walk so fast, they are almost jogging to the doors. Tess is laughing, and Clark wonders if she's completely lost her mind, but then he finds himself joining her. They laugh as they flee the party, taking the stairs to the exit. They laugh on the street as they walk, holding hands, her free one wrapped around his arm. They both know this feeling of freedom will not last, but for the moment, they do not let themselves care.

Clark remembers hearing about a place he had wanted to go to, but never really had the nerve to during the last semester at school. He realized suddenly he'd spent too much time sulking to understand his own true power, both familial and physical. He thinks the place is called the Ace of Clubs. Tess agrees, saying she was there for some party a few months back. Her admission makes Clark pull her away from his body a little and stare at her, slowing his steps.

"What were you doing there?" Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he has no true right to care, but he still feels the anger rising in his gut. He doesn't fight the emotions; he openly accepts them.

"Just trying to have a good time. Some dancing, drinking, you know." She giggles and tries to close the gap he has put between them; he doesn't let her. He wants a better explanation.

"No. I don't know. Who were you there with?" He's still walking, but slows his pace again. He's trying to control how much anger he shows, only because it's not smart to show too much emotion. That was a lesson their father reminded them of practically on a daily basis.

"Just some girlfriends. We had finished a final and wanted to celebrate. That's all, promise." She looked like a lost puppy and he almost felt pity for her, almost. He still wasn't completely satisfied.

"Did you go home with anyone?" He sees something flash in her eyes and he stops, turning her to face him. "Well?"

"Of course not. I'm not Lex! I don't screw anything that's willing." She lets go of his hand and walks on, not caring if he joins her. Or at least, that's what he's guessing she wants him to think. How cute. She wouldn't survive without him.

He decides he believes her, why would she lie to him about her promiscuity? He was no threat. "I'm just looking out for you. That's what brothers do, ya know." He catches up with her easily, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him.

They walk into the Ace of Clubs with no problem, despite his age. That's the thing about being Lionel's kid - no one wants to argue with you. The place is loud, lights flashing, and smells of booze. Clark likes it. He drags Tess to the bar and orders them both drinks. Bourbon. While they wait he leans back against the bar and lets his gaze roam the women on the dance floor. Tess moves into his line of sight and he regards her lovingly. He leans forward, his lips against her ear so she can hear him clearly.

"In public, we have a reputation to uphold. Understand?" He pulls back and looks her in the eyes, waiting for her answer. She smiles, finally, and nods.

She picks up their drinks and hands him his before waving at him and moving away, into the crowd. He stays where he is. Eventually, some hot girl is going to get thirsty, and when she comes to get her drink, she's going to get a whole lot more.

Sure enough, it only takes about ten minutes before a leggy blonde comes up to the bar, leaving only inches between them as she orders her drink. She looks over at him and smiles, and he smiles back. He waits for her to get her drink and then motions to a table off to the side of the dance floor, in the shadows. She nods and follows him over.

They sit with their chairs touching, so they can hear each other over the music, and talk while she sips her drink. He can barely concentrate on the conversation, his mind already on the dance floor. He's pulsing with energy and wants to use some up. The moment she finishes her drink he drags her out into the mass of bodies and they dance.

His mind is racing and he keeps imagining things he's only heard about from the guys at school. Things that never really interested him all that much before tonight. Suddenly, he's a true seventeen year old guy, to the core. His hands are roaming the body against him and he doesn't want to be dancing anymore. He wants things that would have made him blush two hours ago, things that would make Tess blush for sure. He likes that thought, making Tess blush would be fun.

The blonde's tight skirt is short, barely covering her thigh, and he thinks it wouldn't take much to slip his hands underneath. He plays with the hem for a moment and kisses her throat. She makes adorable little sounds as he does that and he smiles against her skin. When he lifts his head back up she leans up and presses her lips to his. He smiles before slanting his lips and allowing her to deepen the kiss. She run her hands up his neck, into his hair and then gently digs her nails in as she runs her fingers back down. He feels his entire body shiver and doesn't want to be in a public place any longer.

"You wanna get outta here?" He wraps a large hand around her waist and with the other threads his fingers through hers. He pulls away a little, dipping his head so that he's looking up at her through is thick dark lashes. He pouts a little and raises an eyebrow, like he's not so sure about it himself. He is very sure.

She studies him a moment and nods, chewing her bottom lip. He grins like the idiot he is and drags her through the crowd. It takes him all of two minutes to spot Tess and he tells her he'll meet her at home. He notices her glance at his hand linked with the blonde's and he winks at his sis. She blushes, and even in the low lights of the club he can see it plain as day. He puts one hand on the wall behind her, leaning in against her.

"I'll save the best for you." She gasps at his suggestion and he laughs, pulling the blonde toward the doors.


	7. Chapter 7

Clark doesn't stay on purpose; he isn't consciously waiting for her to fall asleep, he's just mentally and even somewhat physically exhausted. He smiles, remembering the details of the last few hours. He is pretty sure the blonde drifting into oblivion next to him wont be forgetting her adventure with him anytime this century. He chuckles to himself and rolls over, the bed sighing from the loss of his weight.

He did not intended to end up here at all, but he isn't in a complaining mood. He is hungry. His stomach gurgles out a strangled reiteration of that fact and he grabs his clothes, which are spread randomly around the room. He catches a glimpse of the glowing red numbers next to the blonde hair on the pillow. It's only a few hours past midnight. He will be able to easily sneak into the mansion, and he plans to head straight for the kitchen.

With his speed, Clark is back in Smallville, a triple-decker sandwich in his hands, less than sixty seconds later. It satisfies him as he devours it, then chugs two cans of Mt. Dew. Caffeine doesn't affect him the same as humans, though he's pretty tired now that his tummy is full, and he thinks even if he was human he'd still easily pass out.

He's in no hurry as he strolls through the halls of the mansion. It's quiet; he hears music playing low in the guard room. Some classic rock song. He knows the lyrics and mentally recites the words as he walks. His bedroom door is slightly ajar when he reaches it. He wonders if he left it that way, but doubts it, he is pretty adamant about keeping his room private. So much of his life is not.

He stops outside the door and tunes in his ears, listening for movement behind the door. He hears none, but instead a steady beat thudding away. His lips curl and he pushes open the door, keeping his eyes focused away from his bed, and the guest he knows is waiting there.

He sheds his jacket and kicks off his shoes, his back purposefully turned to the bed. He listens closely as the melodic beat speeds a little, and he pulls his belt though the loops of his dress pants. He pulls his shirt-tails free, knowingly exposing a little skin right above the waist of his pants, in his guest's line of sight. The four buttons of his vest slide open easily, and he hangs the garment over the chair to his right. He takes his time with the shirt's the buttons, starting from the bottom, slowly exposing more and more of his perfect expanse of muscle. He's pretty sure the bed has a clear view of his front in the full-length mirror. He keeps his eyes trained elsewhere, seemingly oblivious.

He hesitates before letting the shirt slide off his shoulders, down his arms, and to the floor to join his shoes and belt. He hears a muffled gasp from behind him, and almost looks over into the mirror, into the reflection he knows will be exposed. Almost. Wearing only the bottom half of his birthday suit, he stretches his arms over his head.

When he turns around, he's amazed at the way his muscles tighten. His body tenses at the mere sight of her. She's half sitting on his otherwise undisturbed bed, leaning back onto her hands. He lets his eyes glide over what she's put on display. She's wearing her cream, satin robe tied loosely at the waist, covering the parts of her skin he wants most to see.

Part of him is proud to see her making a decisive move. She spends so much time blending in to the woodwork, it's almost a shock to see her openly expose herself. He's known all along she was not weak, but intelligent. She's been waiting, knowing all along he was the Luthor to show allegiance to. He would come out on top. She has simply been waiting for him to come to this realization for himself. Tess was a true Luthor, this he now knew for sure.

He steps up to the end of his bed and waits. Their eyes are locked and a blush begins to spread steadily over her cheeks. The only light in the room is provided by the moon, streaming in through the stained glass of the window. The colors play over her skin and the light colored robe. He's never had the innate appreciation for art, but he's overcome by the need to preserve this moment forever. Another reason to be thankful for his alien heritage - perfect recall.

"Are you just going to stand there?" her voice is soft, low, barely a whisper really.

He smiles, lets his head drop, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he puts one knee and then other onto the end of the bed. He crawls up the length of her until their faces are mere breaths apart.

"I just love making you wait."

Clark is in a dead sleep, and still his mind is working at high speed. It's funny how he knows he's sleeping, and yet he's walking through the grounds of the mansion. All the colors around him are more brilliant than normal, like the colors are all lit from within, glowing almost.

He's not alone. There is no one else with him, physically, but he can sense the presence of another. He stops, glancing over his shoulder.

"It is time." He spins around, knowing there is no one there. This isn't the first time he's had this dream.

"Time for what?"

"Time to accept your destiny."

" I don't know what you have in mind for me, but I-" Clark suddenly has a sinking feeling. All his bravado is gone. He curses himself, realizing the ring he knows his body still wears has no effect on his dream self.

"By the setting of the sun Sol, you will return to me. Your destiny will be fulfilled. Your thoughts are not a mystery to me, Kal-El. These people have served their purpose. It is time to leave them. You must let go of your past. I will guide you to your future."

There is no reason for him to stay here, with this adopted family. The only person in the world he admittedly cares about, though, is his sister. He wonders what her life would be like if he were to leave her. The thought puts an emptiness in him that is unbearable. He knows he cannot leave her, ever.

"Get up!"

Clark opens his eyes and immediately regrets the decision. Lionel is standing beside his bed, that predatory smile gracing his lips. Clark realizes Tess is no longer with him; she must have snuck away while he was sleeping. She's nothing if not a survivor, and being found in Clark's bed would certainly earn her punishment. Him too.

"It seems you have finally begun to accept your true nature." Lionel moves to the chair and sits. "I've watched you, waiting for you to embrace your differences. You, my son, are a god among men." Was Lionel giving him praise for his actions the previous night?

Clark pulls himself into a sitting position, his sheets lain over his lap. He levels his eyes with Lionel's, unafraid. The older man is right. He is an unstoppable force.

"I can lead you to greatness. I've been training you since I found you." Clark thinks on this. Lionel has always treated him with respect. Sure, he takes drastic measures, but Clark isn't a normal human. Lionel has just been careful, ensuring self-preservation.

Clark knows Lionel has extensive knowledge; he is a walking encyclopedia of past rulers. If anyone would know how to gain power, and how to hold on to such power, it was Lionel. Despite the new free spirit his ring provides, there's still a hatred deep inside Clark. He still does not trust Lionel completely, he knows he never will. But he knows that Lionel will always keep him close. Lionel is the only person who knows his greatest weaknesses, and Clark is not stupid. Lionel will do whatever is necessary to keep the upper hand, to remain in control.

"We can be a great family." He has to play Lionel's game, and he knows now he can.

Clark sees a shift in Lionel's eyes, he cannot decipher it before it disappears. "We will be a great family. You. And I."


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

The wind is strong, crisp. He stands atop the LuthorCorp building, scanning the streets below. Particularly, he scans the multitudes entering and exiting the media hub across the street. It's late, he's been in the same spot for hours. His eyes strain to see the faces of each individual.

It's been months since his birthday party. Months since he's accepted his fate. He had let go of the idea of another life, this is all there is. He is the son of a business tycoon. He has anything and everything the world has to offer at his fingertips, not to mention his inhuman abilities.

It had taken some convincing for Clark to accept that the power was within him to be strong - that his birthday present from Lionel had not changed him into a different person. Lionel had helped him understand that the red meteor rocks simply take away Clark's inhibitions. After the realization that he honestly didn't like who he had been for the past fifteen years, he let go of his inhibitions naturally. He did not need the ring now.

Lionel had given him a new ring, one without any sort of Kryptonite. A true family jewel. He is turning it slowly, on his pinky, as he stares down at the crowds below.

There's only one thing in this world that he cannot posses, and he hasn't stopped obsessing about it since that night at his party. He had gone back to Excelsior, and hoped to spot her in the city. After a few weeks, he remembered she worked at the Daily Planet, and had started scouting for her. This was his fifth night, waiting, watching.

Clark recognizes a blonde head in the crowds, his eyes automatically focusing in its direction. The guy is a few years older than Clark, in Lex's classes. There, with her hands wrapped around his arm was the brunette Clark had been waiting for. His eyes narrow, and he spits an expletive into the darkness. He had never liked the Queen boy anyhow.

At that moment, Clark vows to make their lives a living hell. He knows if anyone can succeed in that threat, it is himself. What he doesn't let himself feel, let himself accept, is why. The reason he wants to make them suffer, why he needs them to feel pain, isn't something he dwells upon.

He balls his fists and bends his knees, pushing off the roof with all his strength. His hair flutters in the wind as he rises higher in the night sky, his long, black jacket trailing behind him. Unsuccessfully trying to swallowing the lump in his throat, he closes his eyes, willing the wetness gathering there to escape.

When he feels the Earth pulling him back down, he opens his eyes, his irises burning red-orange in the darkness. His feet hit pavement in a back alley, and he straightens to his full height.

There's a shadow moving away from him and his lip curls. He wants to forget the pain, to force someone else to feel what he feels. Whoever this shadow is, they saw him land, they've seen his true nature. They cannot be allowed to tell others; they surely can recognize him as Lionel's youngest child. He knows what he must do.

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><p><strong>AN**: I had planned for this to be a stand-alone story. However, it seems I have a muse for this story. I would like to know how interested ones might be to see this continued, and by 'continued' I mean a series. This is the end of this section of the story. The next section would be posted separately. Thank you for reading!


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